Comedy

Those of you that have visited the SOG compound in Maine are already aware that I take wiffleball more seriously than the average bear (I’m already on a throwing program). Those of you who haven’t, well, the above video is for you. If they’re crazy, they’re crazy just like me.

Discovered via andWhammy, it’s an interview with a family that turned their front yard into a wiffle park, their front porch into a skybox, and their neighbor’s house into a difficult sale. While I’m of the opinion that our wiffle venue in Maine is superior – a homer to left doesn’t land in a street, but Robinhood Cove – this is obviously my kind of family.

And maybe if I’m lucky, this is a glimpse at my future. But let’s keep the fact that I intend to turn the family place into a mini-Fenway Park on the down low, if we could.

Surely, you think, he’s not reduced to inflicting upon us the type of content typically reserved for email forwards. And with that, if your next thought wasn’t “and don’t call me Shirley,” I’ve lost all respect for you and will punch you.

To address the point, yes, this is a forward, and yes I hate them at least as much as you do. More. But this one is funny. For serious. It’s a total pissah.

Because I’m often accused of being from Boston – a claim I’ve never made, please note – I thought it would be useful to turn this into an ad hoc test.

Let’s see how I did.

You think of Philadelphia as the Midwest.Dude, I live in Denver.

You think it’s your God-given right to cut someone off in traffic.Especially people from Connecticut.

You think there are only 25 letters in the alphabet (no R’s).This one depends on who you believe; my friends or me. Also, how drunk I am at the time.

You think three straight days of 90+ temperatures is a heatwave.I flee Denver in the summer for a reason, people.

All your pets are named after Celtics or Bruins.Celtics or Bruins? Seriously? Where’s the guy making these questions up from? LA? Montreal?

You refer to 6 inches of snow as a “dusting.”When you split your time between Colorado and Maine, anything under 2 feet is a dusting.

Just hearing the words “New York” puts you in an angry mood.You and me are going to tangle. Like right now.

You don’t think you have an attitude.I don’t think it, I know it

You always ‘bang a left’ as soon as the light turns green, and oncoming traffic always expects it.Denver folken expect this less.

Everything in town is “a five minute walk.”Well, it is.

When out of town, you think the natives of the area are all whacked.Look, when “how’re you doing?” is anything but a rhetorical question, you are whacked.

You still can’t bear to watch highlights from game 6 of the 1986 World Series.Now we know where this guy’s from: New York. Let’s get him.

You have no idea what the word compromise means.Wrong. I’ve got a dictionary.

You believe using your turn signal is a sign of weakness.The lessons the Pats and Sox learned from the NSA have made an impression on me, what can I say?

You don’t realize that you walk and talk twice as fast as everyone else.Until I met a girlfriend from Texas’ grandmother and she couldn’t understand a thing I said, I didn’t.

You’re anal, neurotic, pessimistic and stubborn.Just because I took the same route to the office, wore the same clothes, and ate the same meals for the duration of the ’04 playoffs doesn’t mean I’m neurotic. Or didn’t you see how that turned out, you New York loving bastard?

You think if someone is nice to you, they must want something or are from out of town.I hated my best friend from college when we first met and kicked him out of a party my roommates and I were throwing for precisely this reason.

Your favorite adjective is “wicked.”Uh. No comment.

You think 63 degree ocean water is warm.Beats 50 something, don’t it?

You think the Kennedy’s are misunderstood.Not after Teddy butchered Mick McGwire and Sammy Sooser’s names, I don’t.

Based on the above, I think I check out as born and raised in Jersey, don’t you?